Holiday
by Glittery-excuse-for-a Fae
Summary: Yes the title isn't the best,  but it is the promised one shot, what happens when John and Sherlock go on holiday? Its a belated Christmas present for OperaGoose! Crack and UST abound! rated T for swears!


**Hello All!**

**This one-shot was demanded into existence by the lovely Operagoose! its a follow up from 'Of bugs and bedding' in my fic 'And thats how the fight began'**

**I promised this for her as a Christmas present but I think my timing is a bit late, my old computer died and it already had most of this written up on so I am starting from scratch!**

**also I have blocked ears and a hacking cough, blergh!**

**So here it is!**

**Also the hotel and everything about Morocco in this fic is totally faked, I have never been there in my life (must admit to doing a lot of research about things to do though, mostly googled!)**

**Disclaimer: Not mine! none of it. Not even Sean Bean or Sharpe! *Shakes head. Delusion!Sherlock pats author on the arm consolingly***

**so get ready to recline, slump, sit on the edge of your seat or indeed balance on your head as you read this.**

**Also huge apologies for the cracky-ness, was aiming for romantic but failed miserably! a**

Of holidays and surprise meetings.

John woke as per most mornings quickly and made sure he was fully awake for what the day had in store, however what he could never plan for was Sherlock Holmes' warm breath on his neck as he came back to consciousness, neither was he prepared for a warm palm on his abdomen.

Thats right, his bed had broken thanks to Sherlock and his hunt for 'bugs!' and they had agreed to share until they could find someone with enough understanding of English to order a new room or replacement bed.

He tried to move out of his flatmates embrace but Sherlock held on with an almost bruising grip, and snuggled his face even closer into the crook of John's neck, the Detective let out a sigh of contentment before his breathing evened out.

"Because this is in no way uncomfortable or weird!" John muttered under his breath.

"Go back to sleep" came a deep voice.

"Oh good you're awake, you can move then"

He received no reply.

"Sherlock, you can't laze about in bed all day, and you certainly can't use me as a human teddy bear"

"Why not?" came the mumbled reply.

John wasn't sure to which comment his flatmate, bedfellow, flatmate was asking so he said "Well for one its a holiday and for two flatmates don't do this!"

"And on holiday a person can do exactly what they want to am I correct?"

"Yes" John replied not liking the fact that Sherlock was soo concise after just having woken up.

"Therefore if I want to laze about and use you as a human teddy bear then I can."

"No you can't"

"But you've just told me…"

"You can't because the person you're trying to use as a human teddy bear has other plans"

Sherlock huffed into John's neck and John shivered from the not altogether unpleasant sensation.

"What plans could be more pressing than this John?" Sherlock asked.

"Well for one I want a shower and breakfast and then I want to go out and look around."

"Dull, Predictable, boring"

"Yes well they might be for you but it is the sort of thing I do on a holiday, so if you wouldn't mind detangling yourself I'd be much obliged"

_'Much obliged'_ his inner voice said _'you may as well have given him an open invitation to ravish you whenever the mood took him!'_

Sherlock lifted his head from the crook of John's neck

"No." He said and John was sure he could see a pout on Sherlock's lips, before he dropped his head back to the good doctors neck and closed his eyes.

"Sherlock please, just let me up"

"John its eight in the morning, what sort of a person gets up at eight in the morning if they don't have to?" Sherlock asked, his lips only lightly brushing John's neck as he spoke.

John mentally cursed himself, He was in a romantic relationship with Sarah, not His flatmate, so he should most defiantly not be enjoying those light caresses on his neck. He pulled his head away and heard the soft thump that meant Sherlock's head had found the pillow.

"This type of person Sherlock!, now move!" John shoved at his bedfellows arms to try and detangle them, and succeeded, for a brief moment until with a small sound that sounded like

"Nyuhhhh" from Sherlock, the man in question half fell half slid off the bed and his head and the rest of his body connected with the tiled floor with an audible 'thud'

John stopped trying to untangle himself from the bedclothes and looked down at Sherlock.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine John" said the detective somewhat coldly "If you don't mind I'm going to use the bathroom" he said standing and walking stiffly to the bathroom

"Be my guest" John replied picking some fresh clothes from the desk chair.

Sherlock exited the bathroom twenty minutes later and headed for his suitcase to pick a clean set of clothes.

"So uhh what do you want to do today Sherlock?" John asked.

Sherlock carried on rooting around in his suitcase not even acknowledging John's presence in the room.

"Ok let me take a shower and put some clothes on and we can go down to breakfast, you might be a little more talkative after you've had something to eat."

Sherlock said nothing so John decided that staying out of Sherlock's way for a while might be a good idea.

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Once Showered and changed John grabbed his key card and shouted for Sherlock

"You ready then misery guts or are you going to sulk in the room all day?"

There was no answer and John checked the room and then the balcony before looking for the other key card, it was gone.

"Damn, he's gone to breakfast without me" He took his mobile from the desk drawer and headed down to breakfast.

He saw Sherlock talking to a woman at the buffet breakfast the hotel had laid on.

The woman was in her mid twenties, John guessed. She had brown hair, slightly wavy, but green eyes, she was beautiful.

He saw Sherlock laugh at something the woman said and felt a stab of pain, the nearest he got to a laugh with Sherlock was a half hearted chuckle every once in a blue moon.

he took a plate and headed over toward them on the pretence of adding a rasher or two of bacon to his plate.

"… And did you divorce the Duke directly after you swindled him out of his money or did you wait a few weeks?"

"Sherlock, don't be soo petty, it doesn't suit you dearest, I waited seven days exposed him for a cheat and took his money with me." The woman said and John noticed the slight american accent

"And was he cheating?"

"That is neither here nor there"

"I see"

"i don't think you do" she replied with a simpering smile.

" Scuse me can I get to the bacon please" John said trying to edge in between Sherlock and the mystery woman.

"Oh good, another English speaker, I'm so glad, I thought it was Just going to be myself and my friend here"

John gave her a small 'nice to meet you' smile.

"Are you here long?" she asked.

"Just a week" he replied letting her guide him to a table, thoughts of Sherlock momentarily far off in both their minds.

Sherlock huffed at having the conversation turned away from himself and grabbed a plate piled bacon on it, even though he wasn't hungry and headed over to the table where John and the woman were. there was no way she was getting her claws into John, she could go and find some other poor soul to corrupt, not John.

He pulled a chair up and sat in-between the two of them quashing the smug smile that was trying to grace his mouth when he heard the woman huff in annoyance.

"Sherlock really! I was just having a lovely tete a tete with…."

"John" John said quickly.

"…John, when you had to interrupt by seating yourself there, very rude!"

"Well if John wouldn't spend so long in the bathroom of a morning then we would have been at breakfast together" Sherlock said.

John had the good manners to look mortified.

"I see" the woman said.

"No!" John replied "I really don't think you do"

"John have you told anyone about the bed yet?"

John shook his head "No Sherlock, and I don't think it's my place seeing as you broke it."

The woman was looking between the two of them.

"Well I have enjoyed our little conversation John, Sherlock, but I have places to be things to do…"

"Antiques to steal" Sherlock muttered under his breath.

"I'm sorry?" she asked

Sherlock shook his head an shoved a rasher of bacon into his mouth.

"It was lovely to meet you John, we should catch up again some time after all it seems we have similar interests" She replied with a leer.

It was lovely to meet you to… Uhh"

"Irene, Adler."

"…It was lovely to meet you too Irene" he replied kissing her proffered hand and watching her walk out of the dining room.

Sherlock was muttering something inaudible round the bacon he was chewing.

"Swallow before you talk" John said.

"Damnable woman"

"Why, what's wrong with her? she seemed quite pleasant."

"Appearances and deception John," Sherlock said giving John a pitying look. "Now, I shall go and collect my wallet from our room whilst you go and tell a member of staff that we need a new room or possibly another bed."

"You broke my bed so you can go and tell them we need a new one!" John said.

"So you want me to go to the foyer and then double back to our room?"

John nodded.

"Pointless!"

"Sherlock!" John said in a warning tone.

Sherlock huffed but began to make his way to the foyer

"I'll wait for you outside!" John called after him, a smirk adorning his face as he watched Sherlock stomp (like a four your old about to throw a tantrum, John would later add) towards the desk in the foyer.

John himself went to sit in the hotels courtyard to wait.

Waiting gave him time to think.

He thought for a while about Harry and how much she would have loved it here, how she would have practically knocked his door down, every morning, early so they could go out and sightsee.

Sherlock wasn't like that, he seemed to want to spend the holiday curled round his flatmate, despite his flatmates protests.

That would have been all very well if John was single and Sherlock wasn't married to his work, in fact it would have been perfect if Sherlock could get a divorce and miraculously turn into a woman over night.

It wasn't that Sherlock wasn't attractive, because he was, he had noticed people looking at them when they had ben out on a case, they looked at Sherlock with badly disguised lust and John with pure envy.

He was also sure that Lestrade was on the cusp of asking Sherlock out, and John's inner voice was not happy about that at all!

But he was with Sarah, if he was any more 'with Sarah' he'd be living in her back pocket… which was an appealing thought for a while until he realised that he _did_ live in Sherlock's back pocket and Sherlock was his flatmate.

"Damn" he muttered when he realised that he wasn't totally against living in Sherlock's back pocket.

"Hell!" he murmured again when the thought came to him that he wouldn't mind getting as close to Sherlock's back pocket (in literal terms) as was humanly possible.

"Bugger!" he cursed when he realised that as a straight man he should not be having these thoughts, he tried to quash them, or sweep them under the metaphorical carpet in his mind but they would not go, they kicked screamed and whined.

He tried to asked them when they had first appeared and they happily supplied the mental picture of Sherlock licking the lightbulb from months back, they supplied this mental picture with various additions and embellishments, such as a nice version where Sherlock was shirtless and his glorious white chest had been on view, and another lovely embellishment where Sherlock had begun to tell John that lightbulbs weren't the only thing that he was able to lick, whilst looking at John with such passion, John had to try and shove these thoughts under the carpet with the rest of them but, they would not be moved and John realised that the heat was pooling in two different places, his cheeks and his groin.

"Why don't you just piss off!" He hissed under his breath.

"Because I haven't got my wallet yet John, I will quite happily piss off once i've got my wallet."

"Not you" John said sounding tired.

"Well then who?"

"It doesn't matter" John said rubbing the palms of his hands over his cheeks and trying not to think about how close Sherlock was standing. "What did they say about the bed?"

Sherlock looked sheepish "Well. they asked me how I felt about sleeping on the balcony"

"They What?" John said

"Well that may have been a little lie on my part John, i explained the situation as best I could to them and they jabbered something incomprehensible that could have meant we'll fix it straight away or it could have been I have no idea what you are talking about you mad Englishman." Sherlock shrugged nonchalantly and came to sit next to John, quite close indeed John's mental voice amended.

"So what shall we do?"

"Well I could of course sleep on the balcony…" Sherlock began.

"Right well if you really want to then that's fine…"

"But" Sherlock continued, "you are an army man and have slept in worse climates I'm sure, so you should have no problem with doing the honourable thing and offering to sleep on the balcony"

"I should have no problem… What? You just offered to sleep on the balcony" John spluttered.

"No John I insinuated that I could sleep on the balcony but I would prefer not to"

"You never said that!" John replied.

"No but it was what I didn't say that you have to listen out for"

"Right, of course it is" John said wondering how the hell he was going to get through the rest of this week without either doing unmentionable things to Sherlock which would undoubtedly mean that he would have the government on his tail, or Just finding a different hotel, which would also mean that he would have the government, or rather Mycroft (but they were really both the same in John's mind nowadays) out for his blood.

He was between a rock and a hard place.

If he was being literal he was fact between a wall '_The hard place_' his mind supplied and Sherlock _'Well I'm sure you could give some parts of him the description of *rock like* if you really have to, but if you want my advice it's a little cheesy'_

"You are not helping" John ground out between clenched teeth.

"I do apologise John, its just you always go on about how wonderful my methods are that I thought I may help you by offering hints as it were as to how I do what I do, In future I won't bother" Sherlock said looking upset. "I shall 'Piss off' upstairs to get my wallet, I'll meet you back here for lunch" He said and stood quickly leaving John to his shame.

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John was sitting sunning himself on the balcony when Sherlock swept in arm in arm with Irene.

"Oh good are you ready for Lunch now?" John asked looking up from his book.

Sherlock waved a hand as if to say 'food, pah not important' but what he said was a different matter "Irene knows a lovely little place in the market we had lunch there"

"Right ok, and you didn't think to let me know?" John asked trying to keep his voice level.

"You are not my nursemaid John, I do not need your permission to go out!" Sherlock said and John noticed that Sherlock was slurring his words slightly.

"And you've been drinking" John accused

"Not my nursemaid John"

"Right, yeah thats fine, well I'll go and eat lunch then" he narrowly avoided adding 'on my own' as he was not some lovestruck teenage girl pining away for someone who was out of his league, he was John Watson, partner to Sarah Sawyer, and as a matter of fact he was very much in love with the aforementioned Sarah Sawyer thank you very much! he grabbed his coat and his keycard and contemplated storming but instead walked calmly to the door, opened it and said;

"By the way you'll be the one sleeping on the balcony Sherlock, you broke the bed."

He revelled in the gasp of shock that Irene emitted, before striding out of the hotel room, and to the nearest set of lifts.

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Returning to the hotel room after something like eight hours absence was sort of like walking on eggshells, he had eaten lunch and, took a walk around the market again, come back to the hotel and eaten dinner and played a round of pool on his own. He had only decided to return because there was nothing better to do.

Sherlock was sitting on the bed, eyes closed hands steepled under his chin classic thinking pose.

"I was a git" is the first think Sherlock says when John walks in.

John toes off his shoes and grunts his agreement.

"I…" He sighs "I'm not good at this John."

"Well neither am I because usually I try and get on with my flat mates and friends, not try and infuriate them" John came to sit on the bed by Sherlock's feet.

"I…" Sherlock began again.

"It's fine, I know what you mean to say, and its accepted, it'd be hard to train another 'git' now, and I've just got you trained the way I like you" John said with a small smile.

that evening neither of them slept on the balcony and surprisingly enough both of them had the good grace not to mention it again.

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John was getting used to waking up to find that he was being used as a human teddy bear, so by the third day of their holiday it didn't phase him, he just extricated himself from the succubus that was Sherlock and padded to the bathroom thinking that it was nothing out of the ordinary.

the fact that he was growing comfortable sleeping in the same bed as Sherlock was of course a little unsettling, but it couldn't be helped, when they got home they would both retire to their usual sleeping places, John to his room and Sherlock to the sofa. that irked John, He was getting used to holding Sherlock as he slept, and Oh god he was turning into a mushy sod!

He began shaving and looked at himself in the mirror, should he break it off with Sarah, he thought it was for the best. Lusting for your flatmate while you were in any sort of entanglement, physical romantic or otherwise was not good.

"John will you hurry up in there other people may need to use the bathroom."

"Its not my fault you like lie ins!' John shouted back smiling.

Oh how domestic this was. he could be happy like this… he shook his head, '_one thing at a time Watson! You have to break up with Sarah first!' _ His mind supplied.

He nodded at his brains rationality when he had broken up with Sarah then, oh then Sherlock Holmes would not know what had hit him!

Grinning to himself he finished shaving, and exited the bathroom, narrowly avoiding bumping into a shirtless Sherlock (try saying that three times fast while under the influence!)

It was a fact that Sherlock slept topless, John knew this from first hand, knowledge (exploration was a word he did not want to use too prematurely!) But really would it be to much to ask for the man to put on a shirt of some sort before he gave the walls a terrible case of the knee wobbles, John was sure if the room came crashing down around them they would get kicked out of the hotel, a bed was one thing, but walls that weren't up to the job was another.

"Good morning John" Sherlock said with a small smile

John for his part nodded and went to sit down on the desk chair under the pretence of doing something constructive with a pen and a non existent piece of paper. The truth of the matter was his knees had decided that if the walls weren't going to contract the 'knee wobbles' then they would, John's knees were helpful like that you see.

"Are you going to be long?" was the first suitable thing that John's brain came up with.

"I don't think so, Irene has told me about a wonderful place in the old city, we're going to breakfast on the way there."

And suddenly, miraculously John's 'knee wobbles' stopped. He had a suspicion that when Sherlock said 'we' what he meant was Irene and I.

"Thats nice, I was going to head to the market and get some souvenirs anyway" he said quietly.

"For who?"

"Mrs Hudson, Greg, Sarah, people at work, its the sort of thing you do when you go on holiday you know"

"Well at least tell me you are going got buy them something useful?"

"Thats not the point of souvenirs Sherlock"

"Yes I understand that the point of them is to sit around gathering dust but please do try and pick something useful for goodness sake."

"Yes sir, and what time will Sir be back?"

_'well' _thought John_ 'if Sherlock is going to treat me like some sort of servant why not act like one just to piss him off' _

"Now John there's not need to be like that"

"No of course not sir" John replied sourly, scowling at the pen in his hand.

"There's just no talking to you when you're like this John, so do try and brighten your mood up by the time I get back" Sherlock said calmly, quickly dressing in a white T-shirt and light blue jeans, slipping a pair of flip flops onto his feet

John said nothing just continued to stare at the pen in his hands wondering if he could make it snap in half just with his mind.

he heard the door close signalling Sherlock's exit, and threw the pen across the room in frustration. (lots of UST going on here!)

"Do try and brighten you mood" John mimicked.

"To Hell with You Sherlock" John said, He grabbed his own keycard, his wallet and a disposable camera he had purchased the day before and headed out to do some sightseeing of his own. If that mean that he would stop at every bar on his way then that was just a happy coincidence, after all if Sherlock could drink then so could he.

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John wasn't all that aware of how he got back to his hotel room, nor how he came to be in that lovely alcohol induced haze that felt like somewhere between awake and asleep, where things don't really matter.

He just remembered getting friendly with some of the local lads and before he could say bob's you're uncle he was pished as a newt. He giggled, even though he had never seen a drunk Newt, he found it rather funny.

He was finding a lot of things funny at the moment, like the net curtain swaying in the breeze from the open door, to the swirly patterns on the ceiling, so he laughed at them.

Seeing Sherlocks stony face was another funny thing too, so, yup you guessed it, he had a good old chuckle at his flatmate.

"You are drunk"

"Excellent deed… deputation… No no, I am perfectly sober thanking you S'rlock" John said trying to stand up from the bed and failing miserably.

"Of course, thats why you smell like you've been dipped in a beer vat a few times is it?" asked Sherlock, one eyebrow raising.

"You are not my… my Nurse S'rlock" John replied pointing somewhere over Sherlock's left shoulder "and If I want a drink I will have a drink"

"Of course" Sherlock replied.

"and, another, another… What?"

"I am not your nurse, and if you want to drink then you are perfectly entitled to."

John shook his head from side to side, it was more like a flop though as his head had decided it would rather belong to a rag doll. "No" He said, a look of utter concentration on his face as if he was trying to remember what to say next, which was in fact the truth.

"No?" Sherlock parroted

"You should have, told me stuff"

"Told you stuff? Right very concise John"

John flopped his head from side to side again and sighed "you're s'posed to do that thing that you do when you don't think I talk any sort of normalness"

Sherlock looked at John "Should I walk out and come back in again when you make sense?"

John's head flopped side to side again and Sherlock began to worry about whiplash.

"Well then what am I meant to be saying?"

John shrugged "S'rlock Stuff" he replied as if that answered everything.

Sherlock shook his head "I refuse to have any sort of conversation with you whilst you are unable to pronounce, let alone say, most of the simpler words in the English dictionary John, so I will be sitting on he balcony, when you feel you are able to do justice to the english language please inform me."

"You'll be sitting on a chair won't you, not on the tiles" John said in between bouts of laughter.

Sherlock sighed "That was not even funny John, and if you weren't in your current alcohol induced stupor you wouldn't be laughing at your own joke."

John giggled some more before saying "You had a conversation with me, and you said you wouldn't"

"Stop being so infantile John" was Sherlock's terse reply.

John huffed and began to hum very loudly, and out of tune.

After maybe an hour of this out of tune humming there was silence. Sherlock peered round the door to the balcony curiously and saw a sleeping John, curled round a pillow mouth slightly open.

"He sleeps, I may be able to get some peace after all" Sherlock whispered.

he returned to his seat and picked up the book John had purchased from the airport.

Sharpe's Peril.

That evening as Sherlock manoeuvred the still unconscious John under the duvet, and clambered in beside him he was grateful to have John here, John always made things interesting. Not to mention the fact he made a very comfy pillow.

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Sherlock and John had decided to spend their last day looking at the historical monuments in the town, on the hotels insistence of course, well the concierge had thrust a pamphlet into Sherlocks hands and pointed furiously at a few of the glossy colour photos so Sherlock and John had nodded furiously and said 'yes' soo many times that they were bordering on being sick of the sound of the word.

They stopped off in the afternoon at a little restaurant and ordered lunch, sitting outside in the little restaurant garden under the shade of a canopy.

"How strange John" Sherlock said once the waiter had taken their order.

"What?"

"You"

"What about me Sherlock?"

"You ordered water with your meal instead of your customary beer."

"Yes well done"

"Why would you change your usual water?"

"Because if I even smell beer I go back to that horrible drunk stage from four days ago, do you really want me slurring my words and stumbling and god forbid, giggling, while we sight see?"

"I see your point, tell me how much did you drink?"

"I don't remember Sherlock, the only thing I remember is going out, having a beer meeting some of the locals and then being back in the hotel paying homage to the toilet god!"

Sherlock grinned but said nothing about things like out of tune humming and lack of neck muscles John appeared to have acquired for a short space of time, he had thought it was adorable, if a little grating after a while, but he would never tell the good doctor this.

"Why are you grinning? Oh god what did I do?"

Sherlock shook his head and instead turned his attention to the waiter that had brought their drinks.

"What did I do?" John asked again.

Sherlock said nothing and began to study his glass of red wine.

John opened his mouth to ask again when he was struck dumb.

John was not a person who was overly romantic, but the way Sherlock looked, right then, right at that moment in time was breathtaking. If John had thought Sherlock's shirtless chest had been bed this was worse and the damnable man was fully clothed.

Sherlock was reclining back slightly in his seat grasping a glass of wine, studying it and he had never looked more delectable, John didn't often want to ravish people where they stood but he had the strong urge to do so with Sherlock right now.

they passed the meal in companionable silence, John mainly because he couldn't think of a single thing to say that didn't involve innuendo, or getting half way through a sentence and then deciding that the table could be used for a much better type of feast.

Sherlock for his part didn't want to talk because he knew tomorrow they would be home, and while he liked the work in London this time spent with John had been, invaluable. He was worried that whatever he said would somehow break the holiday spell that had been woven over them.

"Irene went back yesterday" he said when they were drinking their after lunch tea

"Good I didn't like her" John said quietly.

"I told you she was a damnable woman"

"Not because of that" John replied, making eye contact for the briefest of moments, before looking away.

"Oh?" Sherlock asked.

John shook his head and sighed "We should head back to the hotel and pack, and order a taxi to the airport."

Sherlock nodded realising that he hated the last day of any holiday. he had that horrible lethargy that comes when you have had a really great holiday and then you realise that you have to pack and sit on a plane like a sardine before fighting to get your case when you got to the arrivals airport.

The two of them walked slowly back to the hotel, determined to drag out their last moments of holiday time.

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Cases packed John and Sherlock arrived in the foyer.

"You go and ask them about a taxi Sherlock"

Sherlock nodded and went up to the desk.

"Can we get a taxi to the airport?" He asked the concierge in a level vice, enunciating clearly and gesticulating.

"Of course you can sir what time would you like the taxi for?" replied the concierge in perfect English.

John, who had been about to go over and see if his help was needed at all, chocked on something between an exclamation and a laugh.

"You utter Pillock! you said they didn't speak English at all, are you telling me that all the time we've been here they've been perfectly able to understand both of us?"

Sherlock whirled round to face John and for a few moments he opened and closed his out the very image of a fish on the sand watching the tide go out.

"Right Ok fine!"John said going back to his case and taking it and himself outside the hotel and as far away from Sherlock as possible.

The concierge grinned at Sherlock and winked, yes winked "Lovers tiff sir? tut tut, I hope you had a pleasant stay and will return again soon."

"Not bloody likely" Sherlock replied.

and if the pair ended up falling asleep on the plane with John's head pillowed on Sherlock's shoulder, it was a good enough apology as any, wasn't it?

FINS

**A/N: Well there you have it I got a bit of romance in there!**

**I hope you have enjoyed, if you have, monetary donations are not needed, all I ask is for a little review**

**Please?**

***Bows and Leaves the stage***


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